


Metal Fatigue of a Jet Engine

by eruriotica (minxiebutt)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: BDSM Undertones, Care, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Intimacy, M/M, Sorry y’all but no smut, Tenderness, attentiveness, canonverse, no explicit content, undressing in nonsexual way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:20:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22020214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minxiebutt/pseuds/eruriotica
Summary: After an expedition, Levi is in need of attention.
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith, Nanaba/Mike Zacharias
Comments: 9
Kudos: 90





	Metal Fatigue of a Jet Engine

**Author's Note:**

> I know this has been done before but here’s my take

Levi holds himself rigid on the windowsill. The breeze rustles through his clothing, dancing along his skin in a way that should otherwise relieve him, but tonight, he’s too wound tight for that simple relaxation. The feel of clothes on his body agitates him, the feel of air on his skin agitates him. He is tired but does not want to sleep, his body too tense to even attempt laying down. 

Mike is a good companion in these times. The giant squad leader sits at the table a meter away, reading some lengthy novel with expert patience, tending to the teapot that the two soldiers share tonight. Beside him, the lantern flickers. Levi looks back out the window to the surreal glow of a full moon reflecting back a whole sun’s light. This would be a good night for hunting, he thinks. Two birds, one stone. Get the restlessness from his limbs with a good kill while also providing some meat for everyone to eat. After all, this tight curling in his blood is best unwound by violence, like fighting fire with fire on the tails of destruction. If he could await a prey, fire an arrow into its brain, drag the bleeding body back, maybe his bloodlust would be satisfied, if even for a little while. 

Quietly, fingers turn a page. 

Levi’s gear has already been cleaned, so he reaches into his boot and pulls out one of the knives, taking the little handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket, beginning to polish. In the corner of his eyes, he sees Mike look up, nostrils flaring, before the shaggy man shakes his head and returns his attention to his book. Levi knows Mike won’t be able to see the initials delicately embroidered on the clothe in his hands, even though he’s sure Mike can smell who it belongs to. Unless someone were to directly inspect the handkerchief, the white stitches against the white background would not be detected. 

There’s a certain comfort of a sharp blade between one’s fingers uncutting. A specific comfort in the knowledge of exactly how to handle the weapon so as not to even knick one’s skin a little. 

Footsteps are echoing somewhere down the stone corridor, coming closer, and Levi takes his cue from Mike’s lack of action. If it were anyone outside of a select few, he would slot his bookmark and prepare to question the late wandering, so Levi is not entirely surprised when Nanaba comes with a sleepy stroll. 

She knows how to respect the second night after an expedition, when the adrenaline is long gone and the mind is defenseless against horror. She is nothing but a pair of footfalls coming to their table, a hand testing the weight and warmth of the kettle. It is judged insufficient. She retreats with the pot back to the kitchens without a word. 

Levi gets every speck of dust off the knife and once he can count the stars in its blade, he replaces it in his boot, reaching next for the assassin’s dagger that hides right beneath the gear holster. It comes easily into his hand, already cleaned this morning. He looks it over thoroughly. The edge is sharp, the hilt is sure and sturdy. He puts it back and takes out the identical twin from under his holster on the other side of his torso, deciding that this one definitely needs to be wiped down again. 

By the time it is clean enough to be put away, Nanaba returns with the kettle and a third mug, the scent of soothing chamomile, crisp sweet mint, and bitter valerian wafting around her. Wordlessly, she fills Mike’s mug and then Levi’s, bringing the hot tea over to the window and setting it on the sill with him where it is in no danger of being knocked over. She looks at him, the handkerchief still in his grasp, and nods at him. He nods back, silent appreciation. 

A nod on these nights has one meaning:  _ you good? _ Yeah, he thinks, just fine, nothing to see here, doctor. 

Nanaba settles in beside Mike, a small sliver against his bulking frame, a spare rib. She pulls her own pocket novel from her trousers to read. 

Nanaba came into the Corps around the same time as Levi, just a few months prior, and she’s been close to Mike for as long as Levi has known her name. They’re professional, though. Even here in midnight seclusion, they won’t do more than touch in publicly acceptable ways. He’s seldom seen a stray sensual brush out of place, even less often witnessed a sneaky kiss. He kind of wishes they would perform some act of affection so he would have an excuse to leave. 

Outside, movement catches his eye, twigs breaking as something bounds away. Again, Levi thinks about hunting, wanting to solve his need. He tilts his head back until it rests on stone, closes his eyes, and imagines it: exact stillness for an hour until the deer venture close, the agonisingly slow draw of the bow so as not to cause startle, the pleasure of a perfect hit and a buck dropping perfectly dead. He pulls in a deep breath, thinking about how the hide and bones would also be of use. 

Fingers turn another page. Levi opens his eyes. 

The cravat comes down from around his throat in reluctant pulls, and then he leans forward, taking up the mug. Nice and hot, just a whisper below scalding. Nanaba’s tea preparation is second only to his own. He sips. 

He wills himself into allowing the valerian to relax him, even just a little. At the table, he watches the pair reading, watching the way Nanaba’s blinks become longer. He sips and finds a strange solace in the humanness of falling asleep sitting up. Next to her, Mike is alerted to her state when she gives in, falling into his side, hands and novel falling to the table slack. The squad leader looks down at her and then up at Levi, looking a little sheepish to find them being observed, but doesn’t rush to rouse the littler blonde. Mike dogears his page and sets his book down, retrieving Nanaba’s and doing the same. In a rare show of intimacy, Mike’s fingers graze Nanaba’s nape to wake her, the tender motion making Levi’s stomach tighten in an acquainted sensation of pleasure. Reflexively, Nanaba’s hand rises to swat Mike’s away but he catches her fingers between his own, squeezing in a pulse before releasing her. 

“To bed,” Mike whispers, excusing himself from the table to deal with their two mugs. Nanaba rises to follow with the kettle but Levi stops her. 

“Leave the pot,” he murmurs, then clears his throat. An entire day shouting followed by an entire day silent has his voice rusty. 

Nanaba doesn’t just leave it on the table, though. She brings it to the window, using the proximity to get a good look at Levi. He can tell by her stance that she wants to say something but can’t quite put it into words, and thankfully she doesn’t have to because Erwin joins them. Levi hadn’t even heard him approaching down the hall. 

Just as Erwin is reaching the window, Mike is coming out from the kitchen, scooping up the books after saluting to his commander. Behind him, Nanaba salutes as well, and then the pair is off. 

After a moment of silence during which Levi feels invasively examined, Erwin states, “You’re still here.” 

“You told me to stay,” Levi says, snippier than he has any right to be, “like a dog. ‘Stay, Levi,’” he quotes. 

“And here you are,” Erwin muses, pleasure dripping from those four words. “Like a good boy.”

“Fuck off,” Levi sneers, raising the mug for another sip. 

“That’s one,” Erwin tells him, and the noirette swallows back the smattering emotions. The commander is quick to move past the transgression. “Come, now. I’m collecting you.”

“Am I a debt?” Levi asks. 

“You know what you are.”

Levi grinds his molars together but not in any displeasure at those words, instead enjoying the way it pools in his gut the same way as watching Mike’s fingers on Nanaba’s nape. 

Erwin takes the kettle’s handle and then departs, expecting to have someone on his heels and Levi fulfils that expectation. He walks alongside Erwin through the sleeping estate, and then outside, bisecting the courtyard to reach the small upper officers’ lodging. With yesterday’s losses, many of the rooms they pass need to be refilled with new appointments. Perhaps tomorrow, he thinks. 

Erwin unlocks his rooms and allows Levi to enter first, choosing to follow behind and secure their privacy. 

“Full straps even this late,” Erwin says, setting the kettle on the eating table. “You’re stuck in the expedition.”

Pretending to hate this level of attentiveness, this level of being known, is too exhausting tonight so Levi rasps, “Yeah.”

He’s met with only approaching footsteps. He adjusts. “Yes, sir.”

“You need to be pulled out of that mindset.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re craving violence, aren’t you, Levi?” 

The use of his name like that, like Erwin knows all his mechanisms, makes him waver, stammering a little on his, “Yes, sir.”

“Why didn’t you come to me last night?” Erwin asks, looking down at Levi, two questions presented the same way. The literal and something more dangerous underlying, something of which Levi is usually eager to be on the receiving end. Erwin possesses the physical toys and mental tools which drain the violence from Levi like he were nothing but a blister. 

“I was fine last night.”

“Obviously not.”

The words are not meant for cruel humiliation, but Levi feels them plunge talons into his pride. 

“I  _ was fine,” _ Levi insists. 

“If you’re this high strung tonight, it has been building. It  _ builds _ ,” Erwin reminds him yet again, for possibly the thousandth time. Rarely do they fail to see eye to eye, but when it happens, usually this stands at the center of the misunderstanding. “You are not indestructible.”

“I know,” Levi snaps with a mouth full of aggression, irritation fitting like a metal plate in his shoulders, making him rigid once more. His clothes add to the irritation, making him shift uncomfortably, wanting to escape the worn-soft cotton against his skin. 

Erwin stands tall and strong and steadfast before him, another unsaid expectation lacing the air between them. Levi ducks his head, lowering it. The closest he will get to a verbal apology without actually saying it. Still, Erwin draws the silence between them, so without reluctance Levi says, “Sorry.”

Erwin reaches out with both hands, accepting the apology and untying the cravat, pulling it free so he can fold it and set it with utmost care on the arm of one sofa. “Do you know why we inspect our gear so often?”

“To keep it working.”

“More than that.”

“Regular maintenance.”

“More than that.”

“Fix shit that breaks.”

Erwin hums. “Almost,” he whispers. “Inspecting helps prevent metal fatigue.”

“You think metal has feelings?”

“Be quiet and listen,” Erwin commands. He steps before Levi for a long moment, saying nothing, only looking into the noirette’s eyes. No one gets to look into Levi like this, no one but the only man who can understand what there is to see when looking into Levi’s depths. 

“Even something as strong as steel can get tired.” Erwin walks past Levi who is now perfectly stationary where he stands in the direct center of the sitting area, between two sofas. From a bookshelf on the far wall, Erwin retrieves a permanent placeholder, an old piece of gear inner workings in an unscrewed case. 

“What’s wrong with this?” Erwin comes back and offers the piece. 

“It’s dusty as shit,” Levi answers, taking it and turning it over in his hands. “Needs a good cleaning.”

“Look deeper.”

“It’s old and scratched.”

Silence. 

Levi balances it in both of his hands, opening it like a treasure cove, truly examining its intestines. “One of the fan blades is gone.”

“How do you think that happened?”

Levi looks closer at the endpoints where the steel separated. “Knocked it loose.”

“Does it look as if it were simply knocked off?”

“No, it looks torn.”

“Exactly.”

“What the fuck?”

“Metal fatigue is a result of stress,” Erwin tells him. “This is why it is crucial to completely deconstruct the gear after every use. The forces we exert when we fly can exhaust the metal, producing extremely minuscule cracks. Those cracks, when unattended, grow and eventually rip the metal apart due to stress. I skipped full maintenance one too many times as a young cadet and nearly paid for that mistake with my life.”

Erwin takes the pieces from Levi’s hands, fitting them back together and returning them to his bookshelf, no doubt serving as a reminder for more than one reason. Levi watches the set of the commander’s shoulders as his back is turned, reading a clear, relaxed anticipation in those broadly built bones and muscles. With the gear inner working safely in its home once more, Erwin turns and for a long minute, they stare at one another from across the room. Levi becomes increasingly aware of the darkness relieved only by that surreal full moon inviting itself through the large open windows, and fleetingly, the thought of a hunt crosses his mind; himself the deer, Erwin the archer. Warmth invades his limbs, making him tense and hot, making him wonder if Mike touches Nanaba’s nape that same way when they’re tangled together in bed. 

Erwin is truthful in his steps as he comes to Levi once more, his intimate knowledge bringing ease to Levi’s body. Levi knows that Erwin knows him in a way beyond the physical world, in a way as if they have always been connected somewhere in a part of the soul’s immeasurable breadth. 

“And you, as well, are susceptible. In fact, you are at extreme risk.”

Erwin uses expert fingers, slipping the knives from their hiding places beneath the holsters, disarming Levi in more ways than one. The man kneels and removes the knife from Levi’s boot, then removes the boot from Levi’s calf, one hand cradling the tender back of his knee, tickling the tendon inadvertently. 

“You feel stress the same as any of us,” Erwin murmurs, unfastening the leather straps where they loop leather into the arch of Levi’s foot. Muscle memory easiness, and it feels instantaneous that all the straps on that leg are unbuckled, Erwin moving on to the other leg with that same precise attention. 

“Maintenance on the gear keeps it in working order and alerts its user to any possible issues that may arise.” Erwin comes in close, undoing the skirt of Levi’s uniform and folding it neatly on the sofa beside the cravat. The straps are laid with reverence over the back, organised to be splayed so that the shape is clear. 

He undoes the buttons along the front of Levi’s trousers, opening them up and gently, efficiently pulling them down Levi’s unusual hips with the standard briefs. Bare from the waist down, Levi steps out of the puddle of canvas when prompted. 

“Maintenance does not equate to weakness.” Erwin folds the trousers and sets them beside the skirt and cravat, follows suit with the briefs and socks, as if the sofa will be used as an illustrated diagram of a soldier’s uniform. Erwin is standing when he comes back to unbutton the shirt from the bottom up, sliding it off Levi’s shoulders without touching his irritated skin. Finally free, Levi rolls his shoulders, finding some repose from his agitation in this stark nakedness. He didn’t know he needed it until now, and Erwin has known all along exactly what to do. 

“What did I tell you that night after your first expedition, Levi?”

“That for as long as I followed you,” Levi begins, remembering a year ago, then feels a small spark of electric embarrassment because he now understands the entire point of this undressing speech. “That for as long as I followed you, you would take care of me.”

“Let me take care of you; let me maintain you, captain,” Erwin says with all the reserved gentleness that never sees the light of day, only ever a moonlit revelation. A gentleness that will melt into welts given by those toys in the chest in the bedroom very soon.

“Yes, sir.” Levi pauses. “Commander.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading~


End file.
